


it’s not easy on my bedsheets

by owenwilsonvevo



Category: Bohemian Rhapsody (Movie 2018), Queen (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Barebacking, Bladder Control, Fluff, M/M, Morning Sex, Watersports, im honestly not sure how else to tag that, roger pisses himself in brian’s lap and then they fuck basically
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-03
Updated: 2019-05-03
Packaged: 2020-02-15 22:19:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,014
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18678466
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/owenwilsonvevo/pseuds/owenwilsonvevo
Summary: His other hand settles over Roger’s stomach, and Roger barely has half a second to breathe, “wha —“ before he’s pushing, none too gently, at his bladder.





	it’s not easy on my bedsheets

**Author's Note:**

> hello and welcome to a fic that’s three weeks late and honestly not even the fic I meant to post this week but then I got [this ask](https://sweetheaert.tumblr.com/post/184564504933/roger-waking-up-one-morning-dying-for-a-piss-and#notes) and like??? you know I had to do it to ‘em
> 
> nobody really asked for this to be written but I wrote it anyway because that’s showbiz babey

It’s the gentle patter of rain against the window that wakes Roger up. It’s a steady beat against the thin glass, quiet but quick, relentless. 

They don’t actually have bedroom curtains, and their flat is of the old, drafty variety. It’s the beat of the rain against the window that wakes him up, but the wind is rough and seeping into their room between the gaps in the window pane. It’s cold and crisp against Roger’s face, the only part of him poking out from beneath the comforter. He’s bundled up beneath quite a few comforters, actually, and Brian bleeds so much body heat he’s essentially a furnace beside him. Roger is warm and comfortable apart from the cold air against his face. It’s turning the end of his nose a flushed, pink colour, and more than anything he wants to duck his head beneath his blankets and go back to sleep. He really needs to pee, though. 

He rolls over and tries to ignore it. Brian’s sprawled across the mattress next to him, one arm behind his head, lips parted just slightly in his sleep. He has a week of exams coming up next week, and Roger hasn’t seen him looking this content or relaxed since he’d started studying. His eyelashes are long and dark against his cheeks, his skin flushed just slightly from the cold. 

Roger tugs at the arm poking out of the blanket, pulling it out from beneath the mess of Brian’s hair to wrap it around his own shoulders. He curls up against his side, pressing into his body heat. Brian makes a sleepy sound and shifts against him, pulling Roger closer with the arm around his shoulders. He settles again after a moment, and Roger pillows his head on his chest before he closes his eyes. 

He’s warm and sleepy and comfortable as he lies in the grey, early morning light, one of his arms curled around Brian’s stomach. Brian’s bleeding warmth through the fabric of his t-shirt and Roger lies there for a long few minutes. He waits to drift back to sleep, but the longer he lies there, the more the pressure builds against his bladder until he can’t keep pretending to ignore it. 

He blinks his eyes open again. Brian is still beautiful and asleep above him, so it’s slowly and carefully that Roger ducks out from under his arm and sits up. He’s wearing a long sleeved shirt but the fabric is thin and Roger immediately misses Brian’s warmth. It’s with a groan that he starts to climb out of bed, but he’s stopped just as his feet make contact with the cold hardwood of their bedroom floor. 

Brian catches him by the wrist, head turned against the pillow to face him, hair a messy halo around him. “Where are you going?” 

Roger pushes his fringe out of his face with his free hand. “Bathroom.”

“Stay,” Brian says, and his still rough with sleep. Roger’s toes are cold and there’s nothing he wants more than to climb back into bed. He wants to slink back beneath the sheets and press into Brian’s side for warmth. He wants to curl up against him and sleep until he actually has to get up for class. Only — 

“I need to pee.” 

Brian lifts an eyebrow him. His head is tilted just slightly and he almost looks unimpressed. “I know,” he says. 

Roger lets himself be pulled back into bed. The room is still mostly dark and Brian’s face is shadowed when he pushes back the comforters somewhat and sits up, pulling him over and into his lap. Roger straddles him, holding himself up with a hand curled around the back of Brian’s neck, and Brian wastes no time before he kisses him, and kisses him hard. It’s a deep, thorough sort of kiss, the kind of kiss that makes Roger’s toes curl and that make him shudder in Brian’s lap. He has a hand on the small of his back, thumbing idle patterns over his skin through his shirt, and Roger has half a mind to stay in bed forever and let himself be kissed. Only — 

“Gotta pee,” Roger murmurs into his mouth. He shifts in Brian’s lap, adjusting his weight, trying to ease some of the pressure off his bladder. 

Brian cradles the back of his head as he kisses him again. He kisses him harder, almost bruising, before he finally pulls away. “I know,” he murmurs again. 

His voice is still thick and kind of hoarse and it makes Roger shiver as Brian suddenly grips his hair. His other hand settles over Roger’s stomach, and Roger barely has half a second to breathe, “wha —“ before he’s pushing, none too gently, at his bladder. 

He gasps. The pressure builds, and it kind of aches, but it also makes his entire body tense with how good it feels. It’s an intense, white hot sort of feeling, and he digs his nails into the back of Brian’s neck as Brian pushes harder at his stomach. 

It isn’t new, this feeling. Roger isn’t unfamiliar with Brian’s hand on his stomach, pressing against his bladder until Roger is gasping for breath and pissing all over himself. It isn’t something they do every day, only when Roger can work up the courage to ask for it, but it’s not something that Brian usually initiates. He’ll do it, he’ll push at Roger’s stomach and he’ll murmur about how pretty he looks as Roger pisses all over them both, but Roger always has to ask for it. Brian never asks for it, he never pulls him into his lap like this, and his hand on Roger, unprompted, nearly makes Roger’s eyes roll back in his head. 

His mouth drops open as Brian presses at his bladder again, his whole body tensing in response. It shoots through him again, that hot sort of pain, and he shakes, mouth open, eyelashes fluttering. 

“Bri,” he breathes. He can feel how hard Brian is beneath him, straining against the thin fabric of his joggers, and it makes Roger’s hand shake as he curls his fingers around his wrist. 

“Bri,” he breathes again, digging his nails into Brian’s skin. “Bri, baby, I’m gonna —“ 

“I know,” Brian murmurs, voice still so low and rough that it makes Roger’s breath hitch. “Come on.” 

Roger exhales sharply, a rasp of a sound, and drops his head onto Brian’s shoulder as his bladder gives out. He shudders as he pisses himself, wetting his joggers, Brian’s, the sheets tangled between them. 

Brian keeps his other hand tangled in his hair, using his grip to turn Roger’s head and whisper in his ear about how pretty he looks like this, how good he is for Brian. “Good boy,” he murmurs, in that same sleepy, syrupy voice. “You’re always so beautiful like this.” 

Roger’s breath hitches again. When he’s done, when he’s soaked clean through the thin fabric of his joggers, he’s panting and he’s harder than he’s sure he’s ever been in his life. He lifts his head again, kissing Brian just once, short and sweet. “Fuck me,” he demands. 

Brian’s smile is slow and lazy. “I was hoping you’d say that.” 

Roger has just enough time to huff out a breathless laugh before Brian is pushing him back on the mattress, slotting himself between his legs. “You made such a mess,” he murmurs, almost in wonder, rocking against him slowly. “Do you want wanna stay right here?” He asks. “Do you want me to fuck you in the mess you made?” 

Roger nods quickly and Brian trills a sound, almost like purr, and kisses Roger in that same way that makes his toes curl. He only pulls away to snag a packet of lube from their bedside table, stopping to tug Roger’s joggers off before he fits himself between his legs again and kisses him just as quickly. 

He fingers him open and it’s wet and messy but still so thorough. It’s a quick, early morning sort of shag but Brian’s still careful with him. He fingers him open and Roger makes a series of embarrassing whimpers but Brian still takes his time, stretching him open, brushing against places inside him that make his legs twitch, that make him cry out. 

He’s panting again, legs wrapped tightly around Brian’s back when Brian finally presses a hand to the mattress next to him and eases into him slowly. It’s a dull, uncomfortable pain, but he still feels almost deliriously hot, bent in half for Brian, tacky and messy with lube and with piss. He leans his head back against the upended sheet, pressing a hand to Brian’s chest. Brian stills, waits patiently for him to catch his breath, and when Roger’s chest finally stops heaving he leans closer to kiss him again. “C’mon,” Roger says into his mouth. “I’m not gonna break.” 

Brian bites at the column of his throat and starts to fuck him in earnest. He slides a hand down, curls it around the back of Roger’s thigh, hoists it over his shoulder to keep him properly bent in half. He fucks him fast and hard and Roger keeps making these awful, high little noises like they’re being punched out of him. He whimpers and gasps and makes those awful, high noises as Brian pins him to their dampened sheets and fucks him like he’s got something to prove. 

Roger quickly tangles his free hand in Brian’s hair. He forces his head up from the purpling mark he’s biting into his skin, pulling him into a kiss. He kisses Roger with the same rhythm that he fucks him, harsh and fast and relentless, nearly frenzied. He kisses him for so long that it makes Roger’s head spin. Then he kisses him again, until their lips are both swollen with it, and then he kisses him again as Roger’s thighs start to shake around him. Roger barely has time to get his hand on his cock before he’s coming between their chests, making a breathless kind of noise, making an even bigger mess of himself. 

He cries out and Brian hisses, pressing his face against the side of Roger’s throat, fucking him through the aftershocks quick and forceful before he’s coming, too, with a grunt. 

The wind is still howling outside and keeping their drafty bedroom from staying above freezing but for a moment, with all of Brian’s body heat pressed against him, Roger feels a bit like he’d be hot to the touch. He pants to himself, eyes closed, but he blinks them open again when Brian pulls out slowly. Roger makes a quiet, uncomfortable noise, but Brian’s quick to lean down and kiss away the line that forms between his eyebrows. “Good morning, my love.” 

Roger can’t help the laugh that bubbles out of him. “Good morning,” he says. For the most part he’s taking the piss, but he’d be lying if he said it hadn’t been a good morning. “Having pleasant dreams about me then, I suppose?” 

Brian flushes, but his grin is wide and unashamed. “I might have been,” he says. He kisses him again, sweetly. 

Roger laughs and kisses him again, then again, then again, just because he can. “It’s still early,” he says. “We could get back to sleep for a few hours before your first class.”

Brian snorts, kissing him once more before he sits up. “Or we could shower,” he suggests. 

Roger still kind of wants to stay in bed and curl up beneath the comforters, but the air is cold and rapidly cooling the sheen of sweat on his skin. “We should probably shower,” he agrees, if only for the hot water. 

“I thought so,” Brian agrees. He helps Roger up before he climbs from the bed, shedding his filthy t-shirt, the damp joggers he’d only pushed down around his thighs to fuck him. He stops to kiss Roger again before he leaves. “I love you,” he adds. 

Roger pulls him down for another kiss before he lets him up. “I love you too.”

**Author's Note:**

> come find me on [tumblr](http://sweetheaert.tumblr.com) if you wanna send me anon hate about this or w/e


End file.
